


Just a Crush

by bbugsy



Category: My Time At Portia (Video Game)
Genre: Albert does have an English Mediterranean accent, As it should be, Bottom Gust, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mommy Kink, Praise Kink, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:20:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29247201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbugsy/pseuds/bbugsy
Summary: Gust has a crush on Grimm and the old fisherman indulges him.
Relationships: Male Builder/Gust (My Time At Portia)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 13





	Just a Crush

**Author's Note:**

> hey 🙈

Chill summer mornings are surreal. They feel like stained glass and burnt eggs, like the black grease painted on the pan of something that should have never been used for breakfast. Clouds form over the beating sun, protecting Grimm as he takes out a few piping hot rocks from his generator.

“What’s that for ? It’s summer,” Albert says, sitting on Grimm’s industrial cutter.

“It isn’t for me,” Grimm replies softly. “It’s for my fish tank, I’m building them a heater for the winter… they’re warm bodied fish.”

“Oh, I see… And the cabinets ?”

“Temporary holding places,” Grimm says smiling. Albert shakes his head.

“And it’s a wonder how they still live.”

“You say, living in the conditions you do.”

“Portia gets me by fine.”

“Fine as rocked gin.”

“Wrapped in silk ! If we’re done pissing now,” Albert takes one last sip of his joe, “lovely for the coffee, I should be heading in now, though. Long day ahead of me.” Grimm looks at his watch and his eyebrows raise. “How long’ve you been up ?”

“Four.”

“Since four ??”

“Apparently.” Grimm turns to Albert and grins wide when he sees the man’s baffled face. “I’m an early bird I suppose.”

“You’re a nutty bird, that’s it.”

“Maybe so, hey, don’t you have somewhere to be ?”

“Yeah yeah,” Albert grumbles, hopping off the cutter and placing his tin where he was perched. “Right then, thanks again. By the way, I heard Emily was looking for you yesterday. Should pay her a visit today.” Grimm nods and waits for Albert to leave before opening a vat for firewood and resuming his crafts.

A breeze finds its way to Grimm’s neck and he chills at the feeling, grabbing at his nape and pulling back sweat. He should probably shower before going anywhere.

* * *

“Builder, may I get your help with something ?” Grimm’s in town to sell and before he can even step foot into the plaza, Gust’s walking to him, a twig in his hair, making Grimm smile, and determination in his gaze.

“Sure, Gust,” Grimm says calmly, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you… Think you can build our shop a new heater ? Ours is busted.”

“That's strange, didn’t Higgins fix it last winter ?”

“Yes… we just need a new one.” Grimm nods.

“Sure.”

“Well… thanks.” Grimm smiles at Gust and waves him goodbye before resuming his walk to Paulie’s. “Oh, and builder ?”

“Hm ?” Grimm turns around when Gust stays silent and then the goldenette shakes his head, bright eyelashes fluttering over pale cheeks.

“Nevermind… Take care.”

* * *

Gust isn’t shy, not naturally, introverted, sure, but not  _ shy _ . And Grimm thinks there’s a fine line, something Gust has crossed. Crossed to brash, not bold, something quiet and polite but blunt and sure. There’s a clumsy air behind walls of posh, Grimm thinks. He thinks it’s cute, frankly, and recently Gust has become  _ shy  _ around Grimm.

It’s very endearing, entertaining, peculiar, Grimm finds he likes the way Gust blushes and flusters his words at Grimm, almost as if his words are liquid and they were spilling from his pretty peach lips.

Gust’d been talking about something soft, something related to the arts of paint and charcoal and the way the water sits in the sun and bakes pretty colours, but then Grimm interjects, says something like,

“You’re gorgeous talking about such lovely aesthetics,” and Gust flushes the prettiest shade of pink, something cruel against his coral freckles, something that makes Grimm feel the faintest bit of thirsty, almost need, but not quite.

He doesn’t know Gust like that yet.

* * *

Emily notices it first, the ways Gust will talk and see Grimm and it’s music to the older man’s ears.

“He likes you,” she says simply as they sit on the docks. She throws a pebble and it skips twice. “Ginger says so as well.”

“Does she ?”

“She does,” Emily nods. “Says he draws you.”

“Does he ?”

“What’ve you got for that ?”

“Pocket full’a lore.”

“Don’t reckon he’d like that.” 

Grimm shrugs and says, “He don’t have to. Does he want me ?”

“I don’t think so… think it’s a crush.”

“Is that what Ginger said ?” Emily doesn’t reply and Grimm skips a stone thrice against the aftermath of a small wave. It’s a hot, still day, the water doesn’t move large, only in small sparkles of white and freckle.

“You won’t lead him on ?”

“I won’t,” Grimm says honestly. “Think that lowly of me ?” Emily rolls her eyes.

“No. But I don’t think you like him.”

“I—“

“Want him, but do you like him ?” Grimm tilts his head.

Funny thing, liking, funny things of crushes and love, so different, yet the boat’s small enough for them to occasionally stream together like watercolours. He doesn’t love many, these days, not romantically… he loves Merlin and Emily platonically, he loves fishing and his horse, he loves his life… he doesn’t love Gust. It isn’t a mutual crush. He likes him, but there’s nothing committed about it. So he frowns and looks away.

“Will it go away ?” Grimm asks, hushed.

“His crush ?”

“Eventually.” Emily shrugs.

“Eventually,” she agrees, nodding slowly. “Again, I wouldn’t lead him on.”

“No… I wouldn’t either.”

“Wouldn’t you ?” Grimm has nothing to say.

* * *

“Builder, a moment please ?” Grimm slides off of Pestilence, his white mare, and walks over to Gust, painting by the bridge again, under a tree, jacketless and wearing a colour-stained shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. His hair is tied back lazily, most of his hair out down to his shoulders, wayward strands resting pretty on his pale skin. He’ll get sunburnt, Grimm thinks.

“Don’t tell me you need  _ another  _ umbrella.” Gust smiles and Grimm thinks it’s something from a dream.

“No… I’d like you to find something for me.” Grimm raises an eyebrow.

“I ain’t an errand boy.”

“Suppose not…”

“Sendin’ me on a goosechase then ?”

“Nothing of the sort. It’s quite simple.”

“Not a scavenger hunt ?”

“I said no !” Gust turns, a smirk still lopped on his face, like a lazy sketch. “It’s a book, but it’s somewhere in town. I left it somewhere and I can’t find it.”

“Maybe if you’d stop paintin’ for five seconds and look—“

“Then where’d my muse go ? It’d go missing too, and it’s harder to find muses than a book.”

“Physically…”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Grimm… so, will you help me ?”

“What’s my prize ?” Gust tilts his head.

“What do you want ?”

“A kiss.” Grimm smiles something cocky when Gust’s eyes widen and sparkle with embarrassment. “I find your book… you plant one on me. Unless the book ain’t all that worth it ?”

“Oh, stop ! Fine… you drive a hard bargain.”

Grimm finds that hilarious, so he laughs and says, “Do I ? I’ll have your book to you by sundown.”

“You sound so sure you’ll even find it.”

“So soon.”

“So soon,” Gust repeats softly, nodding, contemplative. Then he turns back to his painting and Grimm mounts Pest and rides away.

* * *

Gust drops his architectural book when Grimm grips his neck and kisses him with the passion of a million suns, Gust grips Grimm’s wrists and then Grimm moves his arms, his hands at Gust’s waist as the younger man intensifies the kiss, letting the old fisherman know he  _ wants  _ this.

Grimm tucks his fingers beneath Gust’s belt, teasingly, then he runs his hands up Gust’s hips, waist, ribs, chest, Gust moans, Grimm greedily growls into the air the goldenette lets out, whimpers in the night so soft and close and full of  _ want _ , it drives Grimm crazed, crazed neon and flash.

Gust wraps his arms around Grimm as he’s pushed into an alleyway, up against a wall, and Grimm kisses down Gust’s cheek, jaw, ear, neck, collarbone, and Gust mewls, teeth biting into his lips when Grimm bites and licks and runs his hands back down Gust’s chest, tantalizingly slow over his nipples.

“You’re… Grimm…” Grimm chuckles and looks up from Gust’s chest, one hand going back down to Gust’s belt.

“Yeah ? You’re Gust ?” Gust’s eyebrows curl up and he whimpers again when Grimm tries unbuckling his pants. Gust stops him and Grimm searches the younger man’s eyes.

“Inside… Not here…”

“My home ?”

“Preferably,” Gust says sardonically, and Grimm laughs. They walk slowly to Grimm’s home; occasionally Gust will try to speed their pace but it’ll make Grimm stride slower so Gust stops and stays beside Grimm the entire walk.

When they do enter Grimm’s abode, they lose patience, Grimm locks Gust against the closed door and kisses him with lust and bias, making Gust make those  _ noises  _ again, those damned  _ noises _ .

“Such a pretty sound, you,” Grimm grumbles against Gust’s lips. Gust shifts and sighs out a shudder, making Grimm smirk, eyes locked with the shorter man’s. “Gonna sound prettier when I have my way with you, sweetheart.” 

Gust’s eyes flutter shut and his grip on Grimm’s biceps tighten, legs shifting slowly. Grimm’s left is on Gust’s waist, the other trails down past Gust’s belt and hips down to his thigh. He rubs Gust’s thigh, then slides to his inner, just bear his crotch, causing Gust to groan again, softly, angelic. 

“Tell me what you want, my sweet angel, tell me what you want,” Grimm says softly.

“Bed…” Grimm smirks, bites Gust’s ear kindly.

“Gladly.” Grimm hoists Gust up by his thighs and carries him to the bed in the other room, big and spacious, clean and comfortable, and then Grimm’s on Gust’s clothes without another thought.

His shirt, sliding off pale and soft limbs, belt  _ finally  _ unbuckled, pants pulled past his feet, on the floor with, eventually, Grimm’s, socks and shoes thrown across the room, Grimm’s vest along with them, and Grimm doesn’t know where to start.

Kissing down his neck, going over bruises and the indents from previous bites— he wonders if anyone else has ever gotten to taste Gust like this, kiss him like this, place their hands on him like this— and Grimm finds he doesn’t like the thought, so he bites harder, in the same places, one hand caressing his thigh, rubbing it gently, thumb brushing his shaft, and Grimm loves the breaths of surprise and warmth, revels in it, he continues until Gust says something along the lines of ‘more’.

Grimm makes his way down to Gust’s knees, kisses them, kisses up his legs, and they make eye-contact as Grimm breathes over Gust’s cock, already dripping with pre-cum—  _ very  _ cute, Grimm thinks. But he’ll wait. And he waits, and then Gust nods and Grimm’s chest floods with yellow, honey and sunshine, something warm and kind. But Gust’s eyes flash with sparkling cider, dark blue like the starry night above them, as Grimm swallows him whole. His hips buck and he cries out with a gasp and then Grimm’s pushed himself back up, using just his tongue, up, over, around, anything that gets a rise from Gust, and he never breaks eye-contact, even when Gust’s eyes cloud and squint, even when Gust’s hips twitch and his cock spills onto his tongue, his lips, his cheek, and then Gust is reaching for his face, kissing him like an angel, kissing him like a love letter.

Grimm holds himself over Gust, patiently, waiting, massaging circles in his thighs, pressing into his hips and stomach, making Gust hum in dew, like verbal flowers, it’s adorable, and Grimm could stay like this forever.

But then Gust flips and points to his pants on the floor.

“L… Lube… and condoms.” Grimm’s eyebrows raise.

“Why you little minx ! You knew you was takin’ me to my—“

“Yes, yes, I did, I do now, I want you in me, Grimm. I have for a while now.” Grimm’s smirk twitches.

“How long ?”

“Grimm…”

“How long have you wanted this ? How long have you wanted your cock in my mouth ?”

“Peach, Grimm…”

“How long have you wanted me to fuck you, princess ?” Gust moans and looks away, flushing an even deeper red than he’d been before. “While now, then ? Well, how ‘bout that… Little innocence taken ?”

“Never claimed to be innocent.” Grimm reaches down and raids Gust’s jeans.

“Yeah, suppose not,” Grimm says smiling.

Gust spreads his legs, propped on his knees and forearms and Grimm takes in the sight— gorgeous flushed ass, petite and soft, pink, tight, Grimm coats his fingers generously, covers Gust’s back and kisses his neck and ear and whispers softly as he penetrates Gust with one digit after the other.

Gust is fully ready by three, Grimm uses four as a precaution, and enjoys the small noises from Gust as they wait for the perfect time, the only sounds are Grimm saying sweetness and the fish tanks bubbling around them in the dark, crickets outside, the night sky shining down warmth and perfects on them through the window. 

Grimm’s slow paced, doesn’t dare wish to hurt Gust too bad, and Gust shakes and gasps before Grimm’s half-way in, but he waits, he’s patient for Gust, loves the bites and bruises appearing on his back and neck, massages his hips and shushes his whimpers.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart, I’ve got you, don’t you worry your pretty mind, love… You’re doing lovely, you’re doing peachy.”

“Please…”

“Please what, darlin’ ?”

“More…” Grimm stills deep inside of Gust before pulling out and slowly reentering, repeats it before another ‘more’ is uttered and then he speeds moderately, waiting until Gust’s moans grow, and his hips meet Grimm’s thrusts, they grow in pace, faster, Grimm gripping onto Gust’s hips harder.

“Rougher,” Gust mutters so quietly, Grimm almost misses it—  _ almost _ .

Grimm pushes faster, harder, his grip becomes stronger and Gust’s moans are limited to curses and his name—  _ Grimm, Grimm, ahh, Grimm, _

And then Grimm leans down, huffs in Gust’s ear, spurring Gust on more, making his moans squeal just barely, and it intensifies when Grimm reaches around to tease Gust’s head, just below, around, then he lets go and brings the hand back to his hip and Gust mutters a delicious,  _ ‘Fuck _ ! _ ’ _

“You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart, so beautiful, so pretty—“

“Call me that again…”

“Pretty ?” Gust nods, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow and Grimm smiles in tenderness. “Pretty, pretty pretty boy,” Gust gasps and shudders and Grimm slows his pace, gets real close to Gust’s ear,

“You’re such a pretty boy, ain’t you ? Pliant and soft, small and  _ needy _ , all for me, huh, darlin’ ?”

“Ahnh, Grimm…”

“I’ve always thought you pretty, long n’ soft hair, radiant eyes, long eyelashes… n’ those lips,  _ God _ , those lips are so pretty, princess.”

“Grimm, please… faster…”

“Not done,” Grimm says gruffly, pulling all the way out and waiting, teasing his hole with just the tip. “Gotta be patient, lovely… be good for me, huh ?”

“Wanna… be good for you…”

“Awwh, that’s a sweet thing, that there voice… submissive to me ?”

“To you, only to you…” Oh, Grimm quite likes that. He slams into Gust and Gust arches, the cry emitting him so lovely and rosed,

“Gorgeous,” Grimm groans, quickening his pace, driving into the man under him harder, deeper, both of them panting and  _ moving _ . Gust repeats his name like quoting religious verses, it drives Grimm insane, lustly, lushly, soft, and Grimm pets Gust’s hair, shushes him when the younger man begins to sob under Grimm but he curses Grimm out if he slows down, so he keeps his pace, 

“So pretty, such a good boy for me, who’s a good boy for me ?”

“M-Me…”

“Gorgeous, beautiful, stay good for me, love ? Be my good little boy ?”

“Yes, I want to be a good boy for you, mommy.”

It’s so quiet, so kind, so light, Grimm  _ almost  _ misses it. And Gust’s breath hitches but Grimm smirks against Gust’s ear and his grip on the younger man’s hips tighten. He stills, making Gust squirm.

“I’m sor—“

“Takin’ the good boy role to heart, huh ?”

“Please…”

“Please what ?”

“Please… move…”

“Please move what ?”

“Please move, m… mommy…” Grimm smirks, pulls out almost all the way, then slams in, eliciting the most lovely noise from the man under him. 

“Ahh, such a pretty thing you are… so good to me.” Gust groans in the sheets below him and  _ screams _ , he  _ screams  _ for Grimm and Grimm grunts in Gust’s ear, licks it, bites it, licks and kisses down his lover’s neck, to his collarbone, and breathes there, his grip on Gust’s hips tightening and softening, rubbing circles into the goldenette’s bruises,

and then Gust shudders and screams,

“F-Fuck, fucking fuck, Grimm, ah, oh Grimm…” and Grimm feels Gust’s muscles tighten, spasm, he reaches around to Gust’s cock and feels it  _ pulse _ as cum spills from it and the old fisherman’s eyes widen, barely noticing himself speed up as he lets Gust ride his own pleasure out in Grimm’s caloused hands.

Gust, coming from him, coming  _ because  _ of him, oh these sweet whimpers and shakes and gasping and moaning, Grimm grunts and huffs as he stills in Gust, pleasure building up and after most of his cum is spilt in his lover, he shudders and cries out, biting Gust’s neck in pure feral  _ want _ ,  _ need _ ,  _ possession _ . 

And when he pulls out and lays on his back next to Gust, he finds the younger man’s hand and laces his fingers with it, smiling when Gust tightens the grip, but just barely. They’re panting hard, and when Gust tries to roll over he groans— most likely in discomfort. 

And Grimm laughs but he finds the strength to help his lover, picking him up and turning him so they’re facing each other.

“I… feel gross…” Grimm frowns and Gust laughs hoarsely, cupping the older man’s face in his hand. “Not… that way… I…”

“You’re full of my cum.”

“Grimm !” Grimm laughs in Gust’s giggles and quiets his golden finch with a small kiss, so small and delicate, like a rainbow after a storm. A storm after a drought.

“I adore you, Grimm. But I feel filthy.”

“Oh, then one second.” Gust frowns in thought as Grimm practically springs up to the other room and returns with two towels. “Let’s go wash up.”

***

The river is cold at night but nobody’s there and it’s refreshing. Grimm’s there holding him, either to keep the smaller man warm or to keep him balanced, Gust is grateful for both.

And Gust, isn’t he just the most gorgeous thing to walk the planet ? In the moonlight, his golden hair hues silver, Grimm thinks hearts are floating from his head and popping with joy.

And then they walk to the town arch, clothed, giggling, speaking about nothing but some things in particular, but Grimm forgets it all when Gust reaches up, takes Grimm’s cheek in one hand, and places his lips against his… and he sighs in the peck and Gust giggles as he pulls back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

“I have… another commission. If you’re up for it.”

“What’s my prize ?”

“You’ll have to come find out tomorrow.”

Grimm smiles and as Gust walks to his house, he doesn’t look back.


End file.
